Letter from Robert Burns to Robert Graham, 10 June 1790

Ellisland 10.th June 1790 -

Fintry, my stay in worldly strife,
Friend o' my Muse, friend o' my life,
Are ye as idle's I am?
Come then, wi' uncouth kintra fleg
O'er Pegasus I'll fling my leg
And ye shall see try him -
I'll sing the zeal Drumlanrig bears
Wha left the all-important cares
O' fiddles, whores & hunters;
And bent on buying Borough-towns
Came shaking hands wi' wabster-louns
And kissin barefit bunters. -
Combustion thro' out Boroughs rode;
Whistling his roaring pack abroad
Of mad unmuzzled lions,
As Queensberry Buff & Blue unfurled,
And Westerha' & Hopeton hurled
To every Whig defiance. -
But

But cautios Queensberry left the war,
Th' unmannered dust might soil his star,
Besides he hated bleeding;
But left behind him heroes bright,
Heores in Cesarean flight,
Or Ciceronian pleading. -
O for a throat like huge Mons meg,
To muster o'er each ardent Whig
Beneath Drumlanrig's banner!
Heroes & Heroines commix,
All in the field of Politicks
To win immortal honor
*McMurdo & his lovely shouse { * The Duke's Factor & Cousin
(Th' enamoured laurels kiss her brows,)
Led on the Loves & Graces:
She won each gaping Bargess heart,
While he, in ambush, played his part
Among their wives & lasses. -
Craigdarroch led a light armed Corps,
Tropes, Metaphors & Figured pour
Like Hecla streaming thunder:

*Glenriddel, skilled in rusty coins, {Rob.trof Glenriddle
Blew up each Tory's dark designs,
And bared the treason under. -
In either wing two Champions fought;
Redoubled * Staig who set at nought {Provost of Dumfries & Director of the Bank of Scotland
The wildest savage Tory,
And Welsh* who ne'er yet flinched his ground {Sherrif Substitute
High-waved his Mangnum-bonum round
With Cyclopean fury. -
*Miller brought up th' artillery ranks, {*Patrick Miller Esq.r of Dalswinton the Candidate's father
The many-pounders of the Banks,
Resistless desolation!
While * Maswelton, that barron bold, {St Rob.t Lowrie
Mid* Lawson's prot entrenched his bold {A famous wine Merch.t
And threatened worse damnation. -
To these what Tory hosts opposed,
With these what Tory warriors closed,
Surpasses my descriving:
Squadrond extended long & large,
With furious speed rush to the charge
Like raging devils driving. -
What

What verse can sing, what Prose narrate,
The butcher deeds of Bloody Fate,
Amid this mighty tulzie!
Grim Horror girned; pale Terror roared,
As Murther at his thrapple shored;
And Hell mixed in the brulsie.
As Highland craigs by thunder cleft,
When lightenings fire the stormy lift,
Hurl down with crashing rattle;
As flamed among a hundred woods;
As head long foam a hundred floods;
Such is the rage of battle. -
The stubborn Tories dare to die;
As soon the rooted oaks would fly
Before th' approaching fellers;
The Whigs come on like ocean's roar,
When all his wintry billows pour
Against the Buchan Bullers. -
Lo, from the shades of death's deep night
Departed Whigs enjoy the fight,
And think on former daring:
The

The muffled Murtherer of Charles {Charles 1st was executed by a man in a mask
The Magna-Charta unfurls,
All deadly gules its bearing. -
Nor wanting ghosts of Tory name:
Bold Scrimeour follows gallant Graham -
- Auld-Covenanters shiver -
(Forgive, forgive, much-wronged Montrose!
Now death & hell engulph thy foes. -
Thou livest on high for ever!)
Still o'er the field the combat burns,
The Tories, Whigs, give way by turns,
But Fate the word has spoken:
For woman's wit, & strength of man,
Alas! can do but what they can -
The Tory ranks are broken!
O that my een were flowing burns!
My voice, a loiness that mourns
Her darling cub's undoing!
That I might greet - that I might cry -
While Tories fall- while Tories fly,
And furious Whigs pursuing!

What W Whig but melts for good Sir James;
Dear his to his Country by the names,
Friend, Patron, Benefactor!
Not Pulteney's wealth can Pulteney save;
And Hopeton falls, the generous, brave;
And *Stuart bold as Hector! {W.m Stuart of Hillside Esq.r
Thou, Pit, shalt rue this overthrow;
And Thurlow growl a curse of woe;
And Melville melt in waiting!
How Fox & Sheridan rejoice,
And Burke shall shout - O, Prince, arise!
Thy power is all-prevailing!!!
For your poor friend, the Bard, afar
He only hears & sees the war,
A cool spectator purely:
So when the storm the forest rends,
The Robin in the hedge decends,
And, sober, chirps securely. -
Now, for my Friends & Berethern's sakes,
And for my dear-loved Land of Cakes,
I pray with holy fire:

Lord, send a rough-shod troop of Hell,
O'er a' wad Scotland buy or sell!
To And grind them in the mire!!!

I have the honour to be, & the happiness to be,
Sir,
your obliged & ever grateful humble serv.t Rob.t Burns